


Whiskey's sweet when you hold the bottle in bloody hands... and this burns like hell.

by jyou



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Family, Gen, Guilt, Hurt, does jeremy have a last name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyou/pseuds/jyou
Summary: "This isn’t a celebration, and this isn’t a victory. We won nothing.Still, Waverly beckons me towards the firepit."Wynonna processes her guilt like only Wynonna can. Set sometime after 2x01, not necessarily right after.





	Whiskey's sweet when you hold the bottle in bloody hands... and this burns like hell.

This isn’t a celebration, and this isn’t a victory. We won nothing.

Still, Waverly beckons me towards the firepit.

You know, this place is called Purgatory for very obvious reasons.  
Nothing changes. Not really.  
People get older but don’t mature. And why should they? Everyone comes back sooner or later. Preferably later. Stupid Revenants.

 

Drink.

 

Buildings wither away but don’t crumble. We patch it up just enough to return it to how it was. Or we sell it. Give somebody a problem and get some cash in return. Life’s a hustle, bitch.

Ah, shit. I might be drunk. But I’d be drunker if these fuckers would stop taking my SoCo.

 

“Hand it over or die.”

Haught grins before throwing it back. I snatch it away mid-gulp and cackle when she chokes it down.

“Shithead.”

 _Sisterfucker._ The word drowns in the whiskey. I’m sure my face is surprisingly apologetic as I walk away with the bottle to my lips.

 

Drink.

 

Maybe I’ve changed. I did get Greece-y enough to slip away, after all.  
I’m saving people, protecting my sister, drinking “socially” more often than soli… solitar… solitarily?  
Alone.  
I shake my head and plop onto a lawn chair. Is it a lawn chair if we don’t own a lawn? Seems too suburban for the Earps.

 

Drink.

 

Maybe I’m wrong.  
I’m killing demons, killing my sister, killing these drinks no matter who’s around to watch.  
But, you know, maybe it isn’t considered murder if they don’t bleed. I don’t remember if she…

 

Drink.

 

“Seems a shame to keep such fine sustenance all to yourself.”

I roll my eyes. “More of a shame to waste it on the unworthy.”

Doc reaches for the bottle, but apparently I’m a quick learner and keep it safe.

“Get your own, Naked Head.”

He shrugs and saunters over to the cooler.

It’s not fair, and I know it. I’m fucking them... him... and fucking him over and fucking him up.

 

Drink.

 

Drink.

 

Drink.

 

A sharp slap next to me makes me whip my head to the side and reach for my belt. Oh, new kid. How long has he been here? He looks down at his hand in disgust before wiping it on his pants.

“Something biting?”

His eyes widen and jaw slackens. He nods slightly before looking away, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Chill, dude.”

It’s not like we doomed you, too.

 

Drink.

 

“Mine!”

My turn to slobber whiskey down my front. Coughing, I look up at a triumphant Waverly dangling the booze in front of my face. So much for learning.

I whine as I make a lethargic reach for the bottle. Swing and a miss. Wave holds the bottle up to the firelight, squints, and sighs.

“You’re cut off.”

“Nooooo…”

To my credit, I stood up successfully. She just got in the way of my walking. Should’ve known I’d take her down with me. Or try. When did baby sis get so strong?

Probably when I wasn’t here.

 

Where’s that drink?

 

“Come on,” Wave huffs. “Off to bed now.” I register tension in my shoulder as she maneuvers my arm behind her neck and hauls me away from the fire. My head’s heavy, and I let it drop. Huh, my feet are moving. It’s nice of me to help, I guess. Kind of. I don’t think they’re really holding any weight.

I feel the vibrations of Waverly shouting as the house gets closer.

Why hasn’t it crumbled? It’s not like we’ve done any patching until recently.

The stench of shaving cream and sweat from my other side tells me Wave got help carrying me over the steps and across the threshold.

Hah. Still the little sister. Thank fuck. I think I laugh.

Then twisting and gravity and pounding. They’re not really walking on the walls, right? I close my eyes to stop the spinning.

 

“You gonna need a bag?” Smart-ass… Hah, or Haught-ass.

I snort. “Takes way more than this to get me to puke.”

 

I hear a chuckle and some shuffling. Voices. Shuffling. Silence. Shuffling. Click. Shuffling. I open my eyes again at the feel of weight landing softly behind me.

 

“G’night, Wynonna.” Waverly. Blinking into the darkness, I inhale deeply.

“They’re gone?”

“Yeah.”

Exhale. Only alcohol and fire should burn this bad.

I pull my knees to my chest and tuck my chin down behind them. She drags a blanket over us.

 

“...they’re gone.”

 

That’s the thing about Purgatory. Nothing changes for good. People just come and go until they can’t come back.

 

Waverly hugs me tightly as I silently shake.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked my first fanfic ever! Any feedback and thoughts are greatly appreciated, even just on the tagging and formatting :)


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